


Work Hard; Play Harder

by deluxekyluxtrashcan (rhoen)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Stimulator, Corsetry, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Sex Toys, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-19 21:56:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7378870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/deluxekyluxtrashcan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hux + a variety of sex toys.</p><p>Each chapter is standalone - please see the first 'chapter' and chapter titles for content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter List

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to suggest something for Hux to play with, [please leave a message in my inbox on tumblr](http://deluxekyluxtrashcan.tumblr.com/ask).
> 
> I seriously suck at naming these things.
> 
> > **Do not translate or repost this fic without my permission.**. Ask if you'd like to translate it. Linking to it with a short snipped it okay though!

The definition of 'toys' is a little loose for some chapters. Don't take anything too seriously - just enjoy. All have been requested on my tumblr, and you're welcome to request something too.

1\. Chapter List [You Are Here]

2\. Hitachi magic wand

3\. Lacing up a Corset

4\. Strawberry Butt Plug

5\. Vibrating Eggs

6\. Flared/canine dildo

7\. TBA (possibly two chapters, because I can't decide between suggestions)

8\. Japanese eggs (Tenga)


	2. Hitachi magic wand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested by anon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to kalikatze for checking for errors!

Hux tells himself not to do it. He tells himself to keep going and not get distracted, but the idea is already there, and he’s too sidetracked by it to focus on the now faltering stroke of his hand. After another few seconds, he gives up.

He doesn’t often open the inconspicuous box at the back of his wardrobe. The thing can lie untouched for weeks, sometimes even months. He goes to and opens it now, though, fingers trembling slightly in anticipation as he crouches down and considers the object he has already chosen. He supposes it’s more for a couple, really, but he can do enough with it by himself to warrant owning such a thing.

He takes the it out, berating himself when uncharacteristic eagerness causes him to upset some of the other contents. He has to pause, toy in one hand while his other puts the other items back in place and then, carefully, replaces the lid. Although no one is around to witness his blunder Hux still flushes in embarrassment, and as he crosses back to his bed his head is down, as if someone might be watching him. There is no one, though. There never has been, and Hux is sure there never will be. His pleasure is his own, and he’s happy to keep it that way.

After setting up the toy, Hux slowly reclines on the bed, feeling the soft caress of well-worn covers as he tries to relax. It’s a challenge, though, and as he thumbs on the sleek, powerful wand his breath catches in his throat, anticipation heightening at the soft sound of buzzing. It gently tingles his hand, and as he closes his eyes he feels his pulse quickening, chest rising and falling more rapidly as he makes himself wait. His free hand caresses the inside of his thigh, the sensitive skin all the more receptive for the game he’s playing. Hux knows that the more he makes himself wait for it, the better it will feel. It’s about discipline, and resisting the urge to skip almost directly to the end.

It’s a hard urge to resist, though, and Hux finds his hips moving of their own volition, squirming and shifting against the sheets. He’s still hard - achingly so - and hates to think how wanton he must look. His cock juts out from his body, seeking contact that isn’t there, and twitches, heavy and flushed, as his hand skims higher, fingers dancing over his skin until he reaches his chest. The sharp way he pinches at his nipple sends such a shock of pleasure coursing so directly through him that he gasps, and then immediately bites down on his lip to prevent any further sound escaping. He then lowers the wand to his abdomen, the light touch causing his muscles to tense and his body to curl in around the point where vibrations caress his skin. He’s sure it shouldn’t feel sensual, but the sensation makes him bite down even more, moaning in pleasure. His skin is unused to such stimulation, and he struggles to decide if he truly likes it or not. He can’t relax, despite willing himself to do so, and he finds his lip slipping from between his teeth and his mouth parting as he starts to pant, the path of the wand across his skin unbearably pleasurable.

Part of him wants to stop the torture, but his hand remains steady and moves the toy lower. Hux’s free hand follows in its path, feeling the way his muscles tense and ripple under the attention. He finds himself pleased with his own body, and the way it reacts to the careful teasing as he draws closer to his neglected cock. Despite the unusual feeling of the vibrations against his skin, he’s still hard, and as he presses the wand more firmly against his pelvic bone his cock twitches heavily, eager for more stimulation.

When he touches the toy to the base of his cock, Hux gives an involuntary cry, startled by the intensity of it. He’s left gasping and trembling, fighting to bring himself back under control, and quickly realises that he can’t. Something akin to fear - or perhaps shame - tightens in his chest as he continues to shift and buck against the wand, teeth worrying his lip as he struggles to hold back the litany of moans. Despite the very rational part of his mind that protests such base enjoyment, he can’t bring himself to stop. He can’t move the toy away: it feels too good, and his body has been too long deprived of pleasurable touch for him to be able to stop.

The lack of control is both terrifying and thrilling. Hux fights against it for another few moments, before giving in completely. It’s just this once, he tells himself. Just this once…

He doesn’t even care that he promised himself exactly the same thing last time.

He makes himself stop chewing his lip, knowing it’s futile to try and hold back moans no one can hear anyway. He also doesn’t want anyone to notice or question why his lip is so abused and swollen, or to guess that their general sinks low enough to pleasure himself this way. He can’t stop bucking against the wand, and as he moves it over his length his cock twitches strongly, precome already beading at the tip and leaving a wet smear on the toy. Any other time, Hux would be ashamed. Now, though, all he can think about is teasing himself to completion. He knows he doesn’t even have to touch himself directly to achieve it - the wand is already almost enough.

As he presses the toy to the base of his cock his whole body jerks in response, the vibrations startlingly intense and bordering on too much against his testes. Refraining from pulling the wand away, Hux hastily distracts himself, his fingers skimming up over his chest and pinching at his nipple, rolling the sensitive bud until he’s all but panting, caught between the dual onslaught. The unthinking way he arches causes him to press firmly against the wand, and he lets out a shameful whimper as he quickly lessens the contact, for a moment shying away from the stimulation that’s already promising a messy, mind-numbing release. Barely a second later he’s bucking back into it, though, and almost sobbing as he feels the way his body draws tighter, edging closer to completion.

As he pinches at the other nipple his cock twitches, brushing against his stomach and leaving a smear of precome that quickly cools and makes Hux distantly aware of how flushed he is becoming. He looks down over himself, past where slender fingers tease the reddened bud and over his slim, tensing stomach, to where the wand caresses his cock. He watches, captivated by the sight of him teasing and pleasuring himself, as his swollen cock twitches and spills another bead of precome, which clings to the tip, glistening and growing as he continues to move the wand along the underside of his length.

When the toy presses against his frenulum, Hux throws his head back, eyes falling shut and mouth parting in a soundless cry as a jolt of pleasure tears through him. He repeats the action, finally finding his voice and letting out a strained sob, his whole body starting to tremble as it struggles to cope with the sensation. The hand at his chest twitches, its purpose forgotten.

He knows he won’t last much longer. His focus has narrowed to a point, and his breathing quickens as he pitches towards completion. The hand holding the wand trembles, and he readjusts his grip, teasing around the base of his cock and finding himself biting his lip again as he focuses intently on the way his body coils even tighter. As he brings the toy up his length and teases the tip his body tenses, teetering at the edge far too soon. He wants to draw it out. He wants to last so, so much longer. But he won’t. He can’t. All that discipline and self-restraint suddenly means nothing, and he’s helpless as the toy pushes him into that unbearably wonderful place where all he can do is react.

When he climaxes he does so with a small sob, almost choking in relief as ropes of come spill from him and paint his stomach. He feels a drop catching his cheek as he twists his head, writhing and panting as he refuses to lift his hand and free himself from the onslaught. Only when he’s completely spent and his body is almost painfully oversensitive, twitching and shuddering beneath the continuing stimulation, does he finally stop, letting his hand fall to the side, taking the wand with it. With difficulty, he thumbs it off, his room falling silent, save his own ragged breathing and cacophonous heartbeat.

The come on his chest quickly cools, and Hux keeps his eyes closed for a moment, slowly coming back to himself. As the pleasure fades - rippling through him in decreasingly powerful waves - he remembers himself. He wills his breathing to even and his pulse to slow. His indulgence is over; he must return to normal.

He does so slowly, and as he cleans himself off and tidies the toy away with limbs heavy with satisfaction, Hux’s thoughts are languid and focused more on the promise of sleep than anything else. There’s no threat or emergency which requires him to leave the warm, soft space he has managed to find, and for once he’s content to enjoy the afterglow. As he closes the lid of the box, he tries to remember why he doesn’t reward himself for his hard work more often.

When he pads back over to his bed and slips beneath his covers, they seem to caress and welcome him. He doesn’t even care about the subtle smell of shampoo on his pillow that’s starting to win over the crisp scent of laundry detergent. He knows it will bother him when he wakes, but for the moment he’s too sated to be anything other than content with the warmth and comfort he has.

When he falls asleep shortly after his head touches the pillow, it’s the best night’s sleep Hux has had in months.


	3. Lacing a Corset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *shrugs*
> 
> If we're getting technical, a corset isn't a toy, but it's a particular weakness of mine so there's no way I was going to ignore anon's suggestion (which I'm so glad you made, thank you!).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd.

The package has been in Hux’s room for days, unopened. It arrived some ten cycles ago, along with a standard shipment of supplies, but has remained untouched ever since. Last night, after checking his schedule, Hux finally decided he would open it come the morning.

It’s morning now. Hux stands in his underthings, skin still warm and slightly damp from the shower, and contemplates the rather innocuous box which now sits on his bed. An unusual sense of excitement starts to creep in, but he tries to keep it at bay. There is nothing special about this. Nothing at all.

Or so he tells himself as he reaches for the package and finally opens it. His fingers tremble a little, and he forces himself to pause for a moment before reaching for the tastefully simple tissue paper that covers his new possession. It’s tucked in, and he carefully loosens the delicate paper before pushing it off to reveal the high quality garment nestled beneath.

Hux feels a little breathless. It’s beautiful. Custom-made, the corset is exactly as he wanted it to be. His fingers, used to the soft, worn insides of his gloves, carefully caress a smooth black satin panel, gliding easily over flawless material interspersed intricate detail until he’s run the length of it and stands, staring, his fingers now absentmindedly resting on the tissue paper as he admires his choice. The detail is all in a deep blood red, each stitch perfectly placed. There had been moments where Hux questioned spending so many credits on something so extravagant, but now, looking at his purchase, he knows it was worth it.

Before taking it out of the box, Hux unfolds the corset fully, inspecting the clasps at the front, running his hand over the boning and eyelets, and admiring the lacing. He had considered leaving instruction not to lace it, but his schedule doesn’t allow the time he’d like to take to perform the task himself. He has allowed himself the extra time needed today to put on the corset, but that is all he can afford.

It’s a shame, really, he thinks as he strokes a panel of the corset once more before starting to don it. The fabric is soft and cool against his skin, promising a wonderful embrace, and he wishes he had more time to indulge in familiarising himself with the garment. What little time he has will have to do, though, and as he looks down, manipulating the hooks into place, he drifts towards the full length mirror hanging inside the door of his already open wardrobe. He only looks up once the last clasp is in place, and when he does he feels a smug smile tugging at his lips. Against his pale skin the corset is even more exquisite.

He reaches around, feeling for and tugging at the very top of the lacing to tighten it, and his head bows, the smile remaining on his lips as the corset is slowly drawn tighter. He works quickly but steadily, his fingers tugging their way down to the middle and then skipping to the bottom to work upwards, repeating the process. The growing tightness offers such a unique sensation, and Hux reminds himself to breath evenly and ignore his excitement at the supportive restriction. It’s hard, though, and not even the slight discomfort in his arms as he reworks the lacing to tighten it just a little more can distract him from the way it feels to be bound in the beautiful garment.

The thought of wearing the corset all day, hidden beneath his uniform, both thrills Hux and reminds him not to lace it too tightly: it has been a while since he last wore a corset for any length of time. When he reaches that perfect point just before he’s laced it too tightly he makes himself stop, despite the growing temptation to keep going.

His gaze, which had drifted to a point on the floor, now shifts back to his reflection as he holds the loops of lacing. He intends to tie it after wrapping the excess around his front, but pauses, feeling the wonderful tightness of the corset restricting the sharp inhale he tries to take.

Getting through his shift is going to be a challenge. Hux can’t help admiring the perfect lines he’s drawn into, and almost lets go of the lacing as the urge to touch threatens to overcome him. He fights it, though, and for a moment only admires with his eyes. His pale skin is thrown into sharp contrast by the dark material, the red detail breaking up what would otherwise be too much black. As he twists to appraise the angle from the side his state of arousal becomes inescapably evident, and Hux stands almost completely still, his chest rising and falling with short, rapid breaths, as he takes in his overall profile. He can’t quite explain the duality; the beauty and sensuality of the corset tight against his pale, slender body, and his base reaction to the feeling of it. He should be better than this, but somehow doesn’t care that he isn’t. He doesn’t particularly care that his primary urge is to tug the lacing even tighter and then take himself in hand, bringing himself off as his other hand explores the lines and contours of his new corset.

Harshly, he tugs at the lacing he still grips, making himself give a startled, shallow gasp. The sharp action jars his body a little, and causes his cock to twitch and swell to almost uncomfortable hardness in interest. He can’t help moaning softly, both elated and frustrated by his current predicament. There’s no way he can indulge in anything right now. He only just has enough time to finish dressing himself before he’s due on the bridge.

With slightly trembling hands, Hux obeys his iron will and loosens the lacing just the right amount to make it comfortable enough to be worn all day. He then knots the excess, wrapping it around himself and tying a double-knotted bow. He can’t resist skimming his hands over the beautiful garment, admiring the softness of the material and the rigid boning helping to confine him. After the sudden restriction of a moment ago, he feels like he can breathe more deeply than ever, and as one hand remains on his stomach, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, his other reaches into the wardrobe to pull out his uniform.

Hux experiences an illicit thrill as he finishes dressing himself, the corset disappearing beneath his uniform but hugging him so tightly he cannot for one moment forget its presence. When he touches his sides through his uniform, Hux can feel it, and runs his hand up, following the subtle curve from hip to waist to chest.

He’s still hard, so before putting on his command cap, gloves and trench coat, Hux has to pause to readjust himself. He then crosses to his refresher, hand resting on his stomach to feel the rigid lines of the corset once more before he applies his favourite hand cream and goes back out into his room. He can feel the corset acutely with each shift as he tugs his coat into place, and pauses again before he leaves his quarters, forcing himself to breathe slowly and not allow one hundred percent of his focus to be taken up by the garment, and the promises of what he’ll do once his shift is over that he’s already making himself.


	4. [Kylux] Strawberry Butt Plug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested anon, [an expensive butt plug that is subtle enough to be left out and people won't immediately guess what it really is](http://ahanoir.com/product/1038641/fragaria-anal-stimulator).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. *shrugs*
> 
> This is where I earn my Kylux tag! (Although it's very much Hux-masturbation-centric.)
> 
> Alcohol: Hux drinks a little whisky, but doesn't even get tipsy.

Kylo has been in Hux’s quarters before. Hux knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Force user has somehow circumvented the security code before to gain access and poke around. Despite that, the other man now looks around at everything he can lay eyes on with barely restrained curiosity. He’s pretending to be uninterested, but is failing miserably.

Hux meanders over to the cabinet, pulling out the decanter and two tumblers. It takes barely a moment for the amber liquid to fill each with a generous portion, but by the time Hux turns it seems that Kylo has satisfied his curiosity, and now stands a little too close. Hux forgets to extend the offer of a drink as he takes in the odd expression Kylo wears.

“Can I use your ‘fresher?”

Hux raises and eyebrow, but nods, gesturing unnecessarily in the direction of the room. “Over there.”

Kylo slinks away, leaving Hux to take a sip from his own glass, and then one from Kylo’s just to even the contents out. The rich drink kisses his tongue and floods him with warmth as he swallows and it settles in his stomach, and he doesn’t hold back the small smile of satisfaction. He’s earned this, he thinks. It’s a celebration of sorts, tasting all the sweeter for how long it has been in the coming. Normally, Hux believes in doing something as quickly and efficiently as possible. This, though, has been fun to draw out. It’s not even over yet - not in the slightest - but he’s on the cusp of victory, and all that’s left to do is watch the pieces fall into place. The game might as well be over.

It’s a calculated move when Hux goes through to his bedroom. He knows Kylo will find him, and that’s part of the plan: draw him in even more; test his reaction to the new environment; and see how far he can push the boundaries. He suspects he can push them as far as he likes.

He sets the tumbler down on the bedside table and starts unfastening his jacket, slender fingers undoing each clasp unhurriedly. Hux drifts towards his wardrobe, opening the door and one hand reaching in to draw out a clothes hanger while the other makes quick work of the last clasp. It’s then that he becomes aware of Kylo somewhere behind him, perhaps staring a little, and he turns to find out that he’s right. The other man looks a little stunned by the sight of Hux undressing, as if he’s wandered into an alternate reality.

“It gets a little stifling after a long shift,” Hux lies, letting the garment slide smoothly from his shoulders. He turns to hang it up, ignoring the intense gaze he swears he can feel on his back. He’s not exactly naked, but sometimes Kylo’s gaze makes him feel like he is. The thin undershirt he wears might as well be made nothing, and he suppresses a pleasant shudder as he imagines for a moment that it is.

“I left your drink through in the reception room,” Hux says, hand running over his jacket to ensure that it isn’t creased.

“I’m not a huge fan of whisky anyway.”

Hux wears a small smile as he turns, amused. “Not a huge fan of whisky? My, my, how disappointing.”

It’s more entertaining than anything; as is Kylo’s expression and the colour staining his cheeks as he tries so hard not to look at Hux appraisingly. He’s failing, and Hux is delighted.

“All the more for me then, I suppose.”

Kylo makes a noncommittal noise, looking away and clearing his throat. On the surface of it there’s nothing unusual about their currently situation - two men who work together retreating after a long day to share a drink in one’s quarters - but the relationship they have is far from normal. They don’t even have professional respect to fall back on. Also, to most there would be nothing unusual about removing an outer layer of clothing, but Hux is never seen in anything less than full uniform by anyone, and they both know it. He might as well be naked for all the peculiarity of it, and he’s playing on that heavily.

It’s working. Kylo, clearly unable to decide if he should be staring or averting his gaze, settles for switching his attention between Hux and random points in the room. Hux starts towards the bedside table, where his drink awaits him.

“It’s a, uhm, nice room,” Kylo offers rather helplessly. Hux smirks behind his tumbler as he takes a sip, knowing that Kylo is desperately searching for something appropriate to say. That isn’t exactly it: Hux’s room is as standard issue as they come, with everything kept neat and tidy, and the few personal effects he has considerately placed.

“Thank you,” he replies with a smirk. Kylo’s gaze has shifted away from him again, and towards something sitting on the bedside table just behind Hux.

“I didn’t know you liked fruit.”

Hux forcibly tampers down the laughter that threatens to burst from him, and lifts his glass again to hide his mouth. “What makes you say that?”

He can’t decide what’s better: the sweet whisky warming him or the way Kylo gestures helplessly towards the object.

“Your, um…”

“Oh, yes!” Hux feigns realisation. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Where did you get it?”

“I had it custom made.”

“May I…?”

Hux feels far too delighted as he steps out of the way to make a clear path to the object, and wonders how in the universe Kylo hasn’t picked up on the amusement threatening to consume him

“Be my guest.”

Kylo moves closer and carefully picks the thing up from where Hux deliberately placed it, thumb smoothing over the surface. Hux knows the weight of it, intimately. It’s in the shape of a fruit native to a planet near Arkanis - a fruit Hux always favoured over the slightly too sweet purple berries everyone else seemed to love - and has been crafted in exquisite detail, each seed a nub that stands slightly proud of the wonderfully full, flared body. The stem is slender, and the leaves and small, delicate flower at the top are perfectly rendered. The whole thing is made of metal, which warms quickly to the touch, and Hux struggles to imagine a more tasteful toy. He had it made well over a year ago, and has lost count of the number of times he’s reacquainted himself with the wonderful sensation of slowly working it into his body.

Kylo is still none the wiser as to its true purpose, though, and gently sets it down again, attention turning to Hux who eyes the fragaria a little too fondly as he imagines using it later.

“Do you miss them?”

Mind still somewhat preoccupied, Hux gives Kylo a quizzical look.

“Strawberries,” Kylo elaborates, rather tellingly using the Coruscant word for them. “They’re not served on Destroyers.”

“No, they’re not…” Hux agrees. He takes another mouthful of whisky and, realising the glass is almost empty, takes another to drain it. It feels pleasant, even if a little tumultuous as Hux decides on his next move. As he sets the glass down with a soft clink he allows his fingers to move to and trace over the shape of the fragaria, his focus shifting back to Kylo as he tries his damnedest to keep his expression neutral.

“It’s not just a decoration, you know.”

“It’s not?”

The look of confusion lasts for several seconds, before relaxing into one of surprise and then almost immediately embarrassment.

“You’re not... You don’t...” Kylo splutters, taking half a step back before starting to regain his composure. He huffs, running his hand through his hair to sweep it back from his face as he shakes his head and gives a rather weak laugh. “I didn’t know you could joke.”

Hux shrugs lightly. “I probably can’t.”

Kylo’s expression freezes again, and he looks at the fragaria.

“Are you serious?”

“Do you want me to be?”

Kylo doesn’t answer, but even without being Force-sensitive Hux can read him: his cheeks are flushed and his chest rises and falls rapidly, everything about the way he holds himself telegraphing his desire. It emboldens Hux, lending him the power to step right into Kylo’s personal space and hold himself there, satisfaction at knowing he has the other man causing his lips to draw up into a small smile.

“Take a look, if you like,” he offers, voice low as he tries to ignore the way his own body reacts to the close proximity and the memories he’s purposely recalling. “You can do that, can’t you? See into my mind?”

He knows Kylo will do it. He can see just how hard it is for Kylo to restrain himself, and if the way the dark-haired man subconsciously licks his own lip is anything to go by, he’s only just managing to keep from surging forward and kissing Hux. While Hux wouldn’t be adverse, he’d rather drawing this out for all it’s worth.

“Yes,” Kylo manages to reply, expressive brown eyes now meeting Hux’s gaze. There’s raw power there, fierce and unbridled, and Hux feels a thrill at the force of it.

“Do it, then,” Hux urges, voice barely more than a whisper.

He doesn’t flinch as Kylo’s hand comes up, hovering close to his temple. It seems rather showy and theatrical, until he feels an unfamiliar, unpleasant sensation within his mind, as if his thoughts are being pulled from him. Despite instinct telling him to fight it, Hux cooperates, pushing forwards the memories he wants Kylo to see. The uneasiness rapidly lessens, and Hux smirks, watching Kylo’s reaction, as he replays the last time he used the toy.

It has been over a week, but Hux still recalls every moment in vivid detail. He pushes the way he’d felt before he’d started towards Kylo, hoping that the slight tinge of desperation which had underlain his aching desire will go unnoticed. He would skip straight to the main part, but to him the buildup is half the pleasure: the growing desire that can’t be sated any other way, the way his flushed skin reacts to every touch, and the cool kiss of lubricant against his entrance as he offers himself some preparation.

No matter how much he holds the fragaria in his hand, it’s always cold to start with. It’s part of what Hux loves about it. Somehow it makes the toy feel heavier, and as he slowly works it into himself he always struggles to keep still and refrain from gasping, eyes inevitably screwing shut in pleasure. By the time it’s fully in, the wonderful shape of it nestled in exactly the right spot, Hux is painfully hard. Any flicker of shame he feels at the way he fills himself with a toy only adds to the arousal, and he tries not to think too closely about what anyone would say or think if they knew what their general did in the privacy of his own quarters. It occurs to him that Kylo now knows, and the memory is interrupted by a strong wave of arousal, Hux’s cock twitching in interest.

He returns purposefully to the memory, thinking about the way he rearranges himself after inserting the toy, every movement causing it to shift and stimulate the unbelievably sensitive bundle of nerves within him. Simply clenching produces the same result, and Hux tenses several times until he’s gasping and curling in on himself, frighteningly close already. He eases off, trying to catch his breath, and allows the sensation to subside as much as it can with the toy still firmly within him. He then does the same again, tensing rhythmically until he’s too close and he has to stop. By the third time he’s convinced it’s too much, and that he can’t cope, and he gives a shuddering sob when he stops just short of completion, his body trembling as he tries to steady himself.

It’s at that point Hux knows he can’t last another round. It’s taken an alarmingly short space of time to reach this point, but he can’t imagine how he could keep going. Even untouched his cock is weeping, precome glistening against the swollen, flushed skin, and his whole body aches for release. With a shuddering exhale, Hux tenses again.

His pace, inevitably, falters, but rather than work for it, Hux wraps his hand around his cock, jerking himself twice before he starts to come. He can’t quite process the sensations flooding his mind, and for a moment everything goes blissfully blank. One of the first thing to register is the splash of come against his skin, for a moment seeming endless as the way his body contracts around the toy causes it to further stimulate him until he’s completely spent. As the last tremor of orgasm fades from him, Hux sags, too sated and heavy to remember how to move, or to even care.

He doesn’t linger long enough in the memory to reach the point where he’d picked himself up and cleaned off, carefully removing, cleaning and returning the toy to its usual place. He lets the memory fizzle out, shifting his focus to the man standing just inches away from him, breathing rapidly and gazing at Hux with eyes dark with arousal.

“Wow,” Kylo breathes, his hand falling back to his side. He seems very much like he wants to move closer, but something makes him hesitate. After a moment, he clears his throat, pushing his hair back from his face again in a habitual movement Hux very much enjoys watching. Something other than high quality whisky warms his stomach, and he knows that when he finally kisses Kylo it’s definitely going to be worth the wait.

“Voyeur,” Hux teases. Kylo is clearly still too caught up to in Hux’s memory to react at all, never mind to take it the wrong way.

“Do you have any other… toys?”

Hux smirks, leaning in just a fraction.

“Come through to the reception room and have another drink with me, then we’ll find out.”

Kylo nods, still distracted. “Yeah,” he agrees, voice somewhat roughened and more than a little enticing. Hux really can’t wait until he reaches that sweet, torturous point of no return where he is powerless to do anything but give in to what he so desperately wants. “Yeah…”


End file.
